


there’s an ocean in my heart

by BloodRaven55



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Post-Episode: V6C6 Alone in the Woods, back to my usual combination of, but with a, yeah i gave myself emotions and i have only myself to blame for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodRaven55/pseuds/BloodRaven55
Summary: “Can I— just for a little while, can I just— can I just hold you?”a.k.a. Blake and Yang actually talk after escaping from Brunswick.





	there’s an ocean in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> A few days ago I made a post on Tumblr about what Yang must have been feeling in the moment that she took Blake's hand as they fled the farm after everything with the Apathy. And it made me feel a lot of things. And honestly I don't think there were enough fics written when the volume aired dealing with the aftermath of the Apathy for Blake and Yang (I maybe remember one or two but not that many) because the emotional potential there is so huge.
> 
> I genuinely don't know where this sudden rush of productivity and me actually finishing stories quickly has come from but I'm certainly not complaining so... enjoy!

Everyone is quiet when they stop for the night after escaping from Brunswick. They set up camp, eat, and go to bed in silence, pairing off into their respective tents to try and forget about the horrors of the day.

Blake knows she won’t be getting any rest tonight, though. She stares up at the fabric of the tent, trying to think about anything except for the Apathy’s claws mere inches from her skin, the incomparable dread of being not just unable to act but unable to care, and the pain that’s settled deepest of all— the knowledge that she could have been forced to break her promise to her team, her promise to _Yang_ , against her will.

First she made an awkward mess of things on the train to Argus, then she managed to somehow make them even worse in the barn on the farm—the memory of Yang pulling her hand away and turning her back on her isn’t going to leave her head anytime soon—and now the place they chose to stay nearly cost her her life. After all of that it's starting to feel like maybe destiny is trying to tell her something— like the universe is telling her that she’s cursed, that she doesn’t deserve to be with Yang and so it’s doing everything it can to keep them apart.

As if on cue, she feels a hand lightly brush against her own in the space between their sleeping bags—a direct contradiction to her train of thought—but she can’t bring herself to accept the offer of connection when she knows that really it’s just an offer to cause the woman she loves more pain. No matter what she does, she hurts Yang, and it has to stop.

After a moment the hand withdraws, and she feels the sudden loss of warmth like an ache in her chest. _It’s better this way_ , she reminds herself, but that doesn’t stop her heart from breaking.

She closes her eyes and rolls onto her side, away from her partner, trying in vain to empty her mind. But she’s pulled out of her own head no more than a minute later by the sound of Yang’s voice.

“Blake?”

She considers ignoring the question and pretending to be asleep, but it’s _Yang_ , and she _can’t_. So she turns back over to face her partner. “Yeah?”

Yang isn’t quite meeting her eyes, and if Blake didn’t know better she’d say that her partner looked almost shy.

“Can I— just for a little while, can I just— can I just hold you?”

It’s probably the last thing she was expecting, and she’s speechless for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. Apparently she waits too long, however, because Yang mumbles to forget that she said anything.

But Blake doesn’t want to forget it. She’s so sick of all this distance between them, and if Yang truly wants to be close to her again then she isn’t strong enough to refuse. And so she goes back on the decision she made less than five minutes ago and says _yes_ , says _please_.

She unzips the side of her sleeping bag to make Yang’s job easier, and it only takes several seconds before her partner is sliding in behind her. An arm curls carefully around her waist and she can’t help but stiffen, muscles tensing in an instinctive nervous reaction to being touched. But then Yang pulls her closer, slowly, gently—so different from the rough treatment she’s used to—and she relaxes into her.

She can feel Yang’s breath faintly against the back of her neck, and the realisation that this is the first time in as long as she can remember that she’s felt safe in someone else’s arms—protected and secure instead of anxious and trapped—hits her with the force of a physical blow. The tears are falling before she can stop them, and Yang holds her a little tighter.

“I know, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Why are you b-being so nice to me?”

“Blake…” Yang’s tone is somewhere between bewildered and pained. “Of _course_ I’m being nice to you. I care about you. So much. That never changed.”

“But—”

“No.” Her partner’s voice is tender but firm now, and it’s more soothing than Blake could possibly have anticipated. “Yes, I was hurt, maybe even mad at one point. But that doesn’t mean I stopped caring even for a moment. And no matter what I felt you never would have deserved me treating you badly.”

“How c-can you say that? You should hate me. You _lost your arm_ because of me.”

“I lost my arm because of _him_. No one else. You don’t get to blame yourself for this. And if I could go back I wouldn’t do anything differently. I refuse to ever regret trying to protect you. Please, just— try to remember that. For me.”

It’s so _hard_ —to fight against such a deeply ingrained instinct, to see anything as not her fault when she’s been taught that she’s responsible for every bad thing for years—but she wants to make the effort. Not just for Yang— for herself as well. “Okay. Okay, I can try.”

“That’s my girl.” Yang’s lips press briefly against the top of her head. “Can you do something else for me too?”

“Anything,” leaves her mouth before she can think better, but she can’t pretend it isn’t true.

“Repeat after me: you wouldn’t be better off without me.”

The words stick in her throat, running contrary to everything that’s been instilled in her since she joined the White Fang, and Yang sighs.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have pushed. Say it whenever you’re ready, baby. Today, tomorrow, a year from now— I’ll be here to hear it.”

She isn’t sure what it is—the term of endearment she’s rapidly coming to crave falling from her partner’s lips again, or the promise of a future—but she finally manages to say it.

“You wouldn’t be better off without me.” It’s quiet, but afterwards she feels better, lighter, and she repeats it with more confidence— more conviction. “You _wouldn’t_ be better off without me.”

“No,” Yang agrees. “We certainly wouldn’t. We can’t have Team RWBY without the B, after all.”

Blake doesn’t quite know why, but part of her is almost disappointed somehow even as she appreciates the sentiment, like part of her was expecting Yang to say something more.

“Besides…” Her partner’s voice is smaller than she’s ever heard it before, and Blake’s breath catches in her throat. “I need you, Blake. You can’t leave me again.”

The sincerity of it fills a space inside her that she didn’t know was empty, but the vulnerability of it hurts, and she turns in Yang’s arms so they’re facing each other. Her partner’s fingertips brush across her cheek, and then Yang cups her face, like she’s something important— something precious.

“You almost died. And I couldn’t— I couldn’t even _care_. Do you have any idea how much that terrifies me? You could have been gone and I— in that moment I wouldn’t have felt a thing.”

Suddenly it makes a lot more sense that Yang took her hand when they fled the house, that she looked at Blake with such _desperation_ as she did so— Yang wanted to reassure _herself_ that she cared.

“It was so _wrong_. My feelings for you are so strong—so _much_ —that I can’t even— I _love_ you, Blake. And nothing can ever change that.”

Blake could never in a million years have seen it coming, even though she feels it so deeply in her own soul that it shouldn’t come as a surprise, and all she can do is listen breathlessly as Yang keeps talking.

“You don’t have to say it back, but I— I could have lost you before we even had a chance to make this work again. And I never would have forgiven myself if I spent my last moments with you stupidly keeping you at arm’s length. When all I really wanted to do was hold you, j-just like this, and—”

Yang pauses as her own tears well over, and Blake pulls her in, tucking her partner’s head under her chin and letting her curl into her as she cries.

“I love you too,” Blake whispers into Yang’s hair. “I have for so long. Even before— before Adam.”

Yang pulls back to look up at her, eyes wide and hopeful and still slightly shiny from the tears that have finally stopped. “You mean it?”

Blake almost wants to kiss her. Almost. But it isn’t the right moment; when it happens she wants it to be a celebration of their feelings rather than out of fear that they might not get another opportunity.

And so instead she simply presses her forehead to Yang’s and says, “Of course I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was good and thank you all for reading :)
> 
> As always, all comments of any kind are not just welcomed but very much appreciated as long as they're not non-constructive criticism. They all make my day <3


End file.
